Heaven & Earth
by Daniel Affaro
Summary: The American campus of Toudou Academy is a paradise of martial arts, where students battle for the right to be dubbed the Ultimate Warrior. With the annual tournament fast approaching, will Jimmy Owens be able to lead the Boxing Club to victory, or will personal grudges get in the way?
1. Chapter 1

Splitting the sky with its sharp movements, a dragonfly flitted through the vast and expansive blue. Passing in front of the punctuating white clouds, the insect's slender body moved fast; desperate wings vibrating either side of it.

The vast and expansive world reflecting whole in its bulbous eyes, the creature dived back down to earth. Opening up beneath it, an enormous cityscape stretched from horizon to horizon. Skyscrapers and monolithic buildings jutted up into the air, like fingers accusing the heavens.

Sweeping through the streets, vibrant colours flashed past the insect. Bright yellow from road signs melded with greens and reds from traffic lights, while below a rainbow of cars blurred into one.

At the end of the street, taking up residence in the middle of a three street intersection, a large highschool campus dominated the visuals.

* * *

A dull thumping sound filled the inside of the vacant gym. Taking on a regular rhythm, the beat of the noise brushed past the shimmering metal of the various machines and exercise paraphernalia.

The sole occupant of the empty space bounced in place, weaving gracefully on the spot. A wet slap accompanied the pounding sound, as his bare feet struck the floor. Strapped around his ankles were a pair of training weights.

Jimmy Owens felt the force of his strike disperse across the surface of the sandbag as he threw a left hook.

Clinging to his sweat-soaked forehead, sharp locks of hair glistened with moisture; their tips pointing down at his hard and focussed grey eyes.

Continuing to pound away at the bag, Jimmy felt the burn of exhaustion spread through the muscles of his arms. Pausing before a straight right, he clenched his bandage-wrapped fist tighter as a tremble of strain pulsed up his tendons.

Just as he was about to launch his next punch, however, a piercing ringing cut through the air. The bell signalling the start of the school day sounded.

Snatching up a towel to wipe away his sweat, the young man dabbed at his face. Removing the weights strapped to his legs, he dumped them alongside the towel into his sports bag before slinging on his uniform jacket.

Exiting the gym, he emerged into a wide hallway. The space was slowly growing more and more saturated with human bodies as other students swarmed into the space.

Striding through the tide of his classmates, Jimmy watched as a number of them moved out of his way, nervous expressions gripping their faces.

Fastening his jacket all the way up, he toyed with the decorative pin clipped to his collar. It was bright silver and took the shape of the Roman Numeral "IV".

Everyone in Tōdō Academy knew what that meant.

Some, however, cared more than others.

Clapping one hand against the shorter boy's shoulder, Nick Slater raised his voice in greeting. "I see you hit the gym early again. Gotta work hard if you want that number one spot this year."

Attempting to ignore Nick, Jimmy continued on his way and stuffed one hand into his pocket. The other still gripped his gym bag.

"Still... Doesn't matter how good you are on your own. If you don't get some good members on your team, there's no way you're gonna give the Tae Kwon Do Club a run for their money."

Shooting a harsh glare up at the young man, Jimmy's eyes narrowed maliciously.

Nick flinched back and broke into a nervous smile. Holding his hands up beside his face, he projected a submissive air. "Sorry, sorry. Just saying how it is."

Jimmy, still yet to speak, took a second to observe the other boy's appearance. Nick was a sturdy and solidly built young man of just over six foot. Bleached blonde hair was combed out of his face and dark eyes stared out from beneath brown eyebrows.

Grunting slightly, Jimmy turned his attention away from Nick and continued down the hallway.

Chasing after him, Nick raised his voice slightly so that he could be heard over the parting crowd. "I mean, don't get my wrong. You're good on your own. Shit, I'm surprised you're not on the Executive Council. Like, I know the Boxing Club didn't win last year, but neither did Muay Thai, and Aat's the Treasurer. Not to mention Ami-"

Nick was cut off as a harsh shout erupted from within the depths of the crowd. Expecting a fight, the numerous bodies crushed closer together so that everyone could get a good look.

Peering over the heads of the other students, Nick half-scoffed at what he saw. "Looks like those NTC punks are back."

Athapy clinging to his face, Jimmy tilted his head so that he could look through the crowd.

A tall young man, his face covered in piercings, held a younger student by the scruff of the neck. His legs dangling into the air, the boy was held up and pressed against the wall.

"I told you before, you little fucker!" the delinquent shouted, his nose inches from the boy's face. "If you can't make good on your debt, I'll beat seven bells out'a ya'!"

"I'll... have your money by tonight..." the First Year protested. "Please... not... Not here! I'll get it for you!"

"Too late for the that, shitbag," the piercing-covered individual growled. Behind him, at least five other youths broke into smirks. Like him, none of them wore the Tōdō uniform.

Just as the delinquent was about to slam his fist into the boy's face, his concentration was broken by the sound of a calm voice.

"Can't you idiots just stay at your own school? You should know what's going to happen if you keep coming back here."

Jimmy had appeared in the midst of the gang. Hand still in his pocket, and gym bag still hanging over his shoulder, his face was set completely flat and deadpan.

"And what do we have here?" one of the thugs chuckled, turning towards Jimmy. "Should'a just left well enough along, you stupid fucker."

Placing one hand on his shoulder, the NTC student grinned.

Teeth flew into the air.

Turning and striking out at the same time, Jimmy had thrown a left into the other boy's face, smashing out all of his front teeth. His dentistry ruined, the thug tottered backwards and passed out.

"Don't touch me. Ever."

While Jimmy was preoccupied with addressing his unconscious friend, another of the delinquents lifted a baseball bat and moved to crack the boxer over the back of the head. The weapon, however, found nothing but empty air.

Ducking down, Jimmy crouched low to the floor and span on the ball of his foot. Using the rotation of the turn to build momentum, he stepped in close to his assailant and struck out again with his left fist. Feeling his knuckles crunch into the young man's ribs, he followed through with the swing and blew the thug across the hallway with the force of the hit.

"Now..." Jimmy said, standing up straight and locking eyes with the leader. "Put the kid down and get out of here. If you don't, I'll be sending you out in an ambulance."

Dropping the freshman, the young man crumpled his pierced features into an amused grin. "You think you can scare me, you third-rate piece of shit?" he laughed. Reaching into his back pocket, he whipped out a switchblade and held it in front of him. "I'll carve you up like a Christmas turkey, you limp-dick fu-!"

He never got to finish his sentence.

Swinging his gym bag down into the path of the knife, Jimmy knocked the weapon wide before again stepping in. Belting the thug with a left uppercut, he catapulted the pierced boy into the air with such force that his head slammed into the ceiling.

"Third-rate?" Jimmy muttered, fiddling with the pin fixed to his collar. "I'm the Captain of the Boxing Club, and Fourth-ranked fighter in the whole school. Next time, check who you're messing with beforehand. Or better yet, just stay away from Tōdō."

* * *

 _Founded in 1973, Tōdō Academy is a private institution, funded in its entirety by the Japanese billionaire Dōgen Takayanagi._

 _A so-called "Fighter's Paradise", the school has several branches the world over and attracts a wide variety of youths, who practice a vast array of styles and forms. From archery to Chinese Khenpo, every student enrolled in the Academy's roster specialises in at least one form of combat._

 _Rumour has it that, among the student body, there reside a number of individuals with abilities of a mystical persuasion._

 _Annually, each branch of the Academy hosts a contest by which the ruling student faction of the school is decided. A tournament unlike any other, the contest is full-contact and without rules. The use of weapons is even permitted, as long as they are used without the intent to outright kill._

 _The club that succeeds in conquering all others is appointed as the school's Executive Council; holding supreme power over the institution. They decide where money is spent, the appointment of teachers, the allocation of practice spaces. Even the suspension and expulsion of students is attributed to them._

 _However, only the elite of the elite ever move within touching distance of this prize._

 _Outside of club performance, participants are ranked both on the level of skill displayed and the number of bodies left in their wake. Those displaying exceptional results are ranked accordingly, from #20 upwards._

 _And only by having one of those in their number can a club hope to reach the height of the Executive Council._

* * *

"Shit man, you didn't have to hit him so hard."

Nick was crouched beside the unconscious leader of the NTC gang, looking up at Jimmy. One of his fingers reached out, as he started to poke one of the boy's eyebrow piercings.

Turning his attention down, Jimmy's face continued its running theme of apathetic distance. "He was asking for it."

"Oh was he?" Nick grabbed the unconscious delinquent's head and titled it up, moving the jaw to mimic the movements of speech. "Please scary boxer man. Please punch me in the face. Jhee wiz, I sure wish _**I**_ could have brain damage."

Tutting, Jimmy turned away, just as Nick dropped the boy's head and pulled out a marker pen. "What are you doing?"

"Just my own form of justice," Nick muttered, midway through drawing a crude attempt at a penis on the thug's forehead. Beneath it, he scribed the word 'dickhead'. "They're going to wake up from what you did to them. Violence fades. This won't. At least not for a while. Permanent marker."

"You're an idiot."

"Don't pretend you don't love me." Nick winked. "And hey, believe it or not, I'm not just here to annoy you today."

"I dunno, you seem pretty annoying at the moment."

"I said just. Meaning I'm still going to annoy you, it's just lower on my list of priorities."

Jimmy turned back to Nick, just as the taller boy rose to his full height, and folded his arms across his chest. "So, what do you want?"

"S'not about what I want, Jimmy-buddy. It's 'bout what you want!"

"And what's that?"

"Members! For the Boxing Club? You remember our little chat a minute ago? You get some good guys on your team, and you could seriously make a run at winning the tournament this year!" He broke into a wide grin and hooked his arm around Jimmy's shoulders. "And I just so happen to know a guy that would be a great addition for you."

* * *

Jeremy Bowett sneezed once into a cupped hand and shook his head.

Whipping around his face, dusty blonde hair flicked up into messy wisps. Pale blue eyes stared up at the school building in front of him, ticking over the structure. Fixed to the wall outside of the school grounds was a large metal plaque that spelled out the name of the institution: "Tōdō Academy".

Tugging at the collar of the white shirt that he wore, Jeremy pulled an irritated expression. Out of every school he had attended, this was the only one that insisted on a mandatory uniform. He didn't like that. It made him feel restrained and restricted.

Suddenly, something caught his attention, out of the corner of his peripheral vision.

A group of girls passed him, striding through the gates of the school. Riding up their smooth thighs, matching tartan skirts revealed milky white skin, while tight jackets fitted neatly around their breasts.

Sniffing and scratching his nose, Jeremy broke into a grin and set off into the building.

* * *

"So he learned boxing in the Cadets?" Jimmy asked, walking through the hallway leading towards the First Year classrooms.

"Yeah," Nick confirmed, matching his fellow's stride. "Apparently his Dad is some kind of high-ranking mucky muck in the army. They moved around a lot, he went to a lot of different schools... But one thing that always stayed the same is he kept getting into fights. So in the end, his Dad stuck him in the Cadet program. Taught him boxing. From what I've heard, he's a featherweight."

"So he's fast."

Nick whistled between his teeth as he checked information from the messages on his phone. "Understatement. Apparently he hasn't been hit once, in all of his matches."

"So either he's good enough to join my team..." Jimmy began.

"Or the people he fought were nothing special," Nick completed. Glancing down at his dark-haired associate, he lifted an eyebrow. "You want to fight him and check?"

"Not so much fight," Jimmy reaffirmed. "Just check his reaction speed. If he can dodge my first punch, I'll draft him."

"And if not, he loses teeth..." Nick sighed, distaste etched across his face. "You at least gonna pay for his medical bills?"

"I haven't got that kind of money."

"Of course you don't..." Looking around, absent-mindedly, he clasped his hands behind his head. "You know, you're never gonna beat Hajime if you keep beating the shit out of your potential allies."

"If I can beat the shit out of them, then they're going to do dick all against Hajime. What's a few broken bones? It's a damn-sight better than getting killed."

Nick spotted the new student just as they strode through the door of the classroom. "There he is." He pointed to the crop of messy blonde hair, turned away from them. Jeremy hadn't noticed them enter the room. "Take it easy on him, will ya'?"

Taking little notice of his companion's plea, Jimmy made his way across the room. When he was within arm's reach of the freshman, he raised his voice. "Hey!"

Seemingly ignoring him, Jeremy didn't turn around.

Jimmy persisted. "Jeremy!"

Still no response. The blonde youth stood staring out of the window, paying no attention to the Boxing Club Captain currently stood behind him.

Jimmy's eye twitched. "You son of a bitch, you do not ignore me."

Without hesitating, the Senior dropped his gym bag and threw a punch with his right hand.

The strike, however, found nothing but empty air. Jeremy had vanished.

The boy had ducked down beneath Jimmy's line of sight and, in the process of turning around, stepped around the older boy and outside of his peripheral vision. Standing up, he reached out and silently tapped the Captain on the shoulder before wagging his finger from side-to-side.

The action struck a nerve with Jimmy. Turning, he gritted his teeth and raised a fist for a follow up attack.

Jeremy lifted his hands up beside his face and tilted his head to the side, avoiding the blow. Smiling, he shook his head and waved his hands to signal that he didn't want to fight.

"If you don't want to go, why didn't you turn around when I called you?" Jimmy asked, squaring his jaw.

Jeremy pulled a confused expression and raised one eyebrow. Pointing at the side of his head, he tapped on his ear several times.

When Jimmy didn't understand, he lifted one finger and pulled a notepad and pen from the inside pocket of his jacket. On it, he scribed a short message:

 **=I can't hear you=**

"I think he's deaf..." Nick muttered, walking up behind Jimmy and narrowing his eyes.

"Then how did he dodge my punch? He didn't see me throw it. Shouldn't have known I was behind him."

Jeremy broke into a smirk, as he pocketed the notebook. Lifting one hand, he formed and fist and splayed his fingers three times, in a pulsing motion.

"He felt the beat of your footsteps as you walked up. And when your gym bag hit the floor. As for the punch... He probably felt it brush his hair, just before he ducked."

Jimmy smiled, feeling his cheeks distort as his mouth widened. "Which means he'll be even faster when he can see the person he's fighting." He locked eyes with the first-year. "You can read my lips right?"

Jeremy nodded.

"How would you like to join the boxing club?"

* * *

"We had five NTC students come on campus about an hour ago."

Leaning back in his chair, Hajime Nanjō (Executive Council Chairman and Captain of the Tae Kwon Do Club) had his feet up on the desk in front of him. His straight black hair hung around his face, the full fringe falling in locks around his dark eyes. He stared out of the window, the morning light falling upon his attractive features.

"So you sent someone from the Disciplinary Committee to deal with them?" he asked, airily. Momentarily, he flicked his eyes over his subordinate before returning his gaze to the window.

Aat Aromdee (Captain of the Muay Thai Club) stuck his hands into his pockets and leaned back against the wall behind him. His tan skin set his outline hard against the pale paint. "Didn't have to. By the time they got there, they'd already been taken care of."

"Let me guess..." Hajime mused. "Jimmy Owens again." Reaching up, he toyed with the silver pin, in the shape of the Roman numeral "I" fixed to his collar.

"More than likely, yes."

Hajime broke into a half-hearted sigh. "For God's sake... He can't keep going around like some kind of vigilante. There are rules for this kind of thing. If he wanted to deal with troublemakers he should have taken my offer to join the Council."

"You know how stubborn he is," Aat replied.

Chewing the inside of his cheek, Hajime hummed slightly to himself. "Well we can't just have him do whatever he wants..."

"You beat him at the tournament last year," Aat insisted. "Why not just deal with him yourself?"

Pulling his legs down off of the desk, Hajime leant forwards and tapped on the flat surface with the tip of his finger. "Despite what a lot of people sem to think, this isn't a dictatorship. And is it a crime to want to be liked? I don't want the student body seeing me going after another Club Captain."

"So what are you going to do?"

Hajime seemed to ponder the matter for a second. "Send one of the Red Feathers after him."

A notably nervous expression passed across Aat's face. "You're sure that's wise?"

"People are nervous around them already," Hajime explained, the corner of his mouth curling into a sly smile. "They always have been. Plus, so few of them are actually members of active clubs, which means most of them aren't actually ranked. So even if one of them were to attack Owen, it wouldn't be linked directly to me."

"But they're notoriously difficult to control," Aat persisted. "They don't like following the rules at the best of times, and you'll be giving one of them free reign to run around loose. What if it comes back to bite you?"

"If things get down to the wire, and they go on a rampage, I can always step in and deal with them myself," the Chairman said, his smile growing wider. "And then I'll be the hero of the school again. The number one comes in to deal with the big bad monster, that everyone was already scared of."

"So you're obviously going to need to pick one that you're confident you can beat, if they go off the rails."

In response to Aat's statement, Hajime broke into a slight chuckle. "Please..." His voice bore an unwavering confidence to it. "I'm Number One for a reason. There isn't anyone that I can't beat."

* * *

Jeremy broke into a smile and nodded. Again scribbling into his notepad, he held up the paper for Jimmy to look at.

 **=When do I start?=**


	2. Chapter 2

Patrick Donahue lay in the midst of the bushes, bordering the southern building of Tōdō Academy. Snaking up from his lips, a wisp of smoke traced a fine arc away from the tip of his cigarette towards the midday sky.

Amidst the bustle of students, moving to find a good spot for their lunch, he registered the sound of footsteps approaching him.

Aat Aromdee walked up to the lounging boy; his progress restrained by a half step. Just by his pace, Patrick could tell that the young man was nervous.

"I told you before, I'm not joining your stupid council," Patrick said, raising his voice as he shut his eyes. "People already hate me. You can fuck right off if you think I'm gonna make that worse by telling them what to do."

"I'm not here to ask you to join us," Aat said, finally stopping and looking down at the brown-haired young man. "I've got a job for you."

"And I'm not interested," the Irish boy muttered. Gripping the burnt-down butt of his cigarette, Patrick flicked the filter past the Senior's head.

As the tiny ember-tipped butt shot by Aat's ear, it traced a glowing trail into the air before suddenly exploding violently.

Flinching forwards from the shock of the blast, the Thai boy's eyes opened wide in surprise. "What the...?"

He had heard stories about the supernatural powers of individuals with Red Feather blood. However, he never expected them to be that powerful. With a flick of his wrist Patrick had transformed a piece of trash into a dangerous explosive.

"That was a warning," Patrick continued, sitting up and giving Aat the once over with his eyes. "If you don't get out of here I'll make the next one bigger."

Aat regained his composure and broke into a grin. "Aren't you at least a bit interested to know what my proposal is?"

Picking up a small stone from the ground, Patrick launched it at the Treasurer's head. Dodging sharply to the side, Aat allowed the projectile to shoot over his shoulder before it too detonated with an explosive crack.

Already fleeing from the first explosion, the crowds of students picked up their pace, in their stampede from the courtyard.

"You help us out on this, you get a scholarship to any college of your choice," Aat continued.

The statement piqued Patrick's interest. Stopping short of hurling another stone at the older boy, he raised one eyebrow and listened.

"Fully funded, dorms and catering included. Not to mention glowing recommendations from Tōdō's board of directors." Cocking his head to the side, Aat settled into a relaxed position and looked down at the sitting boy. "You just need to put someone in the hospital for us."

The corner of the Irish boy's mouth plucked up into a smirk. "Is that all?"

* * *

"Okay, we're going to need to figure out a way to communicate," Jimmy said, sitting down opposite Jeremy so that the freshman could read his lips. "You might be able to understand me, but I can't have you writing down stuff all the time. Problem is I know shit all about signing..."

"Maybe I can help you out with that?"

Resting her hands on Jimmy's shoulders, a young woman leaned forwards, over the back of the bench on which he sat, and placed her cheek on the top of his head.

Slender and elegant, Ami Matsuda was a tall girl with smooth and defined facial features. Full lips, flushed pink, stood out from her milky pale skin, contrasting with the looping black curls of her hair. Framed by thick mascara, eyes the colour of green tea almost seemed to glow.

"Are you sure being here is wise?" Jimmy asked, shaking his head to stop Ami from leaning on him. "You don't want to be seen hanging around with me, do you?"

"I don't care if I'm seen with you," the pretty girl retorted. "I do what I want, and speak to who I want. And besides, I couldn't bear watching you shout at the poor boy."

Watching her full lips move as she addressed the team Captain, Jeremy broke into a grin.

"So, what, you're telling me you can sign?" Jimmy asked.

"Among other things," Ami replied, stretching her arms out in front of her, as she conversed with the deaf freshman. **-Hello. My name is Ami. What's your name?-**

Jeremy stood and motioned out a response. **-My name is Jeremy. I'm new here.-**

 **-What are you doing, hanging around with Mr Antisocial, anyway?-**

 **-I joined the boxing club. It seems like fun. Plus... He's stronger than he looks. I thought it might be fun to spar against him some time.-**

"Yeah, that's fine, just have a conversation without me..." Jimmy muttered, leaning back and folding his arms across his chest.

"He's saying that you're a good guy," Ami said, walking around the bench and standing to the side of Jimmy. "So don't worry. There's nothing bad to be said here."

"Not yet anyway," he said, flicking his eyes to the side.

In the brief lull in conversation, Jeremy took the opportunity to step towards the beautiful young woman. Reaching into the pocket of his jacket, he withdrew a small flower, snatched from one of the bushes dotted around the school.

Jimmy, watching the display, broke into a shocked and dumbfounded expression. Ami blushed ever so slightly, a rose tint spreading across her cheeks. Jeremy broke into a wide grin.

"Thank you," Ami smiled. "That's so swee-"

She stopped short as the blonde boy placed one hand on her breast, and gave it a slight squeeze.

Jimmy's shocked expression morphed into one of horror.

A noticeable vein bulged atop Ami's forehead.

With one monstrous punch, Jeremy was pitched ten feet into the air.

* * *

Watching the trio from an upstairs window, overlooking the courtyard, Patrick scratched at the side of his head.

From that distance, the Boxing Team Captain didn't look like much. He was average height and, as far as Patrick could tell, wasn't exceptionally muscular (at least compared to some of the monsters walking around campus).

However, the Irish boy could feel something from him. He wasn't sure of exactly what it was, but what he did know was that Jimmy Owens wasn't to be taken lightly.

Before observing him, Patrick had come to the decision to temper the force of his explosions. He didn't want to do more than send Jimmy to the hospital, as instructed. However, now that he'd had a chance to watch the fourth ranked fighter in the school, he knew that restraining himself wouldn't be possible. The boxer emitted a strange air of intimidation that Patrick knew would be stupid to overlook.

Turning around, he leaned his back against the windowsill and knocked his tongue against the roof of his mouth. Sparking up another cigarette, he stood smoking and watching the clock mounted on the wall of the hallway.

In three hours, the bell would sound to mark the end of the day. That would be his best chance to catch Jimmy off guard.

* * *

"What, so he just straight-up grabbed her tits?"

Nick was half chuckling as he leaned back in his chair, to talk to Jimmy over his shoulder. An air of disbelief clung to his features, as they discussed Jeremy's actions.

"Yeah. No warning or anything. Copped a fistfuland, got launched. Never thought I'd see the day where anyone would dare try that with Ami." Jimmy stared off into space as he spoke; eyes unfocused as he recalled the scene.

"Boy's got a set of stones on him," Nick laughed. "Either that or he's got some shit judgment skills."

"Probably both..." Jimmy muttered, half to himself.

"Lucky for you," Nick retorted. "Only a lunatic would try and fight Hajime after what happened last year. Good thing the kid wasn't here then, right?"

Jimmy said nothing.

"You are gonna' tell him?"

Still, the boxer sat in silence, staring at a fixed point on the wall ahead of him.

"Fuck, Jim. Just sign the poor kid's death certificate, why don'cha?"

"He doesn't need to know," Jimmy finally said, spitting out a sharp reply. "What happened doesn't matter. What matters is making sure he's strong enough to fight the rest of the clubs. As far as I'm concerned, Hajime is mine. No one else fights him. Especially not the kid."

Nick let out a relieved breath. "Glad to hear that. But, if you want Jeremy ready to fight the other clubs, it's gonna take some work. I mean ya' saw how fast he is, but somethin' tells me he's gonna need more than speed."

"I'm going to start training him in Reverse Striking tomorrow."

"Jesus, straight into the deep end then."

Jimmy broke into a slight smirk. "Boy's gotta learn to swim sooner rather than later."

"So you're planning on teaching him Ki techniques?" Nick asked, lifting one dark eyebrow.

"Eventually," Jimmy explained. "Once I figure out which Gate he can open."

Nick crossed his fingers and lifted them into the air. "Here's hoping it's something simple. I'm sick of all the freaks running around here; I don't want another one."

"Did you just call me a freak?"

"It's a figure of speech," Nick chuckled, holdinghis hands up submissively.

All of a sudden, Jimmy quickly turned away from Nick and stared hazily at the front of the classroom.

A dark shadow fell upon the pair. Towering over the duo, their teacher's hulking form dominated Nick's vision. Easily standing at over seven feet tall, his ridiculously oversized stature and enormous muscles were further emphasised by his ill-fitting suit.

"I don't remember my lesson being some kind of social event," he growled, eyes glowing with intimidation.

"Sorry, sorry!" Nick laughed, waving one hand in front of his face. "We were just discussing the lesson! Isn't that right, Jim?" He turned towards the boxer and broke into a wide and pleading smile.

Jimmy turned back towards Nick, his chin propped up on his palm, and broke into a confused expression. "Who are you, again?"

Nick's jaw dropped open and horror gripped his features. _YOU TRAITOR!_

"Sorry sir," Jimmy continued, turning his attention up at the teacher. "I don't know what his deal is. He just started talking; I didn't even know it was directed at me. Truth told, I didn't think he would shut up."

A huge ham-hock of a hand fell upon Nick's shoulder.

"So, bothering one of our star athletes are we, Mr Slater?" the instructor asked.

"Who, me?" Nick forced a smile. "Of course not! No one respects them more than me! Treasures I say! I mean, what are you if you're not an athlete? No one, that's who! Strong body, strong mind and all that!" A nervous laugh escaped his mouth.

"I'm so glad you agree," the teacher said, with a threatening smile. "I take it this means you're up for a little exercise, then?"

The blonde boy broke into a perplexed expression.

"Five hundred laps around campus," he continued, with an iron tone. "Starting now."

* * *

Panting like a dog, Nick stumbled forwards and continued to plod along just as he passed his four-hundredth lap of the school grounds.

Exiting the main doors, Jimmy's eyes fell on him and he broke into a smirk. Despite being one of his few friends, Nick was an almost constant source of annoyance. Any situation where he was reprimanded was okay as far as Jimmy was concerned.

Returning his attention to the school gate, he stuffed his hands into his pockets. Parting slightly around him, the majority of the crowd steered clear.

All except one.

Ahead of him, walking against the current of bodies, a boy was heading straight for Jimmy.

Lifting one hand, Patrick rolled a bright silver coin between his fingers.

* * *

Ami was watching from one of the second floor windows of the school, as a bright explosion seared out through the crowd. Dozens of students were swept off of their feet by the blast, while more still screamed in surprise and horror.

Stood beside her, Aat narrowed his eyes, dark brows lowering over them.

Taking a slight breath as the smoke cleared, Ami laid eyes on Jimmy. His left arm was completely covered in nasty burns, and was hanging limp at his side. The char extended up over his jawline and onto his face, highlighting the swell of the flesh around his eye; bruised and shut from the force of the impact.

"I can't believe you're doing this," Ami said, flicking her eyes away from the sight, and towards Aat.

"I'm not doing anything," the Thai boy replied. "This is Hajime's doing. He's the one who ordered Jimmy to be taken out."

"Like this?" she snapped back.

"It's the most effective way to make sure he gets the message."

"Are you sure it isn't just because you don't want to fight him?" Ami asked, mockingly. "What, were you scared that he was going to beat you?"

Aat ignored her dig. "We didn't want the name of the Executive Council to be tainted."

"So you're admitting what you're doing is wrong?"

A harsh shout erupted from the ground below, followed by another explosion, as Jimmy rushed at Patrick.

"I don't have to listen to you, bitch," Aat replied, harshly. "Hajime keeps you around because you amuse him. Nothing more."

Ami's leg shot up into the air as she swung a kick at the side of Aat's head.

Unfortunately, she wasn't fast enough to catch him off-guard. In a split second, the young man had lifted his right arm and blocked the kick with the crook of his elbow.

Tutting under her breath, Ami turned about herself and began to walk away.

Moving to go after her, Aat reached out with one hand. "Don't think you can just attack me and run awa-!"

Stumbling forwards, he felt his knees give way beneath him. Eyes opening wide in dismay, he choked on his breath and slammed one hand into the ground, as he fell.

 _What the...?!_ he thought. _This is... Naiko! Delayed internal attacks. The bitch tagged me!_

* * *

Jimmy jumped to the side as Patrick threw another coin at him.

Spurred on by his sharp footwork, he was far enough away when it exploded that he wasn't caught in the blast radius.

"C'mon man, you can't run forever!" Patrick called after him, continuing to hurl currency. "I don't wanna kill ya'."

"Then what do you want?" Jimmy shouted back, sternly.

"I'd settle for two broken legs," arose the half-hearted response.

Pulling a fistful of quarters out of his pocket, he passed them between his hands. Throwing one at Jimmy's head, he quickly raised his other hand and tossed a second one a split second later, yet with more force.

The two coins collided together midair and shot in two opposite directions.

Both of Jimmy's escape routes were cut off.

Gritting his teeth, the boxer raised his unharmed right arm and rapidly formed a fist. Striking out with extreme force, just as the coin in front of him began to glow, he punched it so hard that it was propelled through the air back towards Patrick.

Flinching back as he saw his projectile returned to him, the Irish boy lifted one hand and caught the coin, an instant before it exploded.

 _Damn..._ Jimmy thought. _Figured I could redirect his attacks back at him. Strike that plan. He can shut off whatever he's doing to the coins._

He watched as Patrick continued to fling coins at him, all the while dodging the repeated attacks. Steadying his breathing, Jimmy focussed on feeling out the opponent in front of him. Watching and waiting to get a sense of his Ki.

 _He's channeling his Ki into the coins through physical contact, then igniting it somehow..._ Jimmy thought, analysing his opponent's actions. _And I can't sense Ki coming from his Chakra Gates, which means it's a Red Feather power. That's going to make this difficult. His power could be anything; it doesn't have to conform to elemental typing._

Taking a step towards his opponent, the Captain of the Boxing Club flicked his eyes down towards the ground. As he foot moved in, he had heard a strange metallic sound. Loose change had been scattered all around the area.

"Shit."

Leaping backwards, he just about managed to jump clear from the next explosion.

 _Can't come at him from the front... Still, count my blessings. At least he's not a long-range fighter. Mid-range I can settle for. It's just going to be a pain in the ass, but I can settle._

"I really am sorry," Patrick shouted at him. "If I had my way, I'd just be laying low right now."

"Then why aren't you?" Jimmy replied, trying to buy himself time to think.

"I was made a bit of an offer. A nice one at that. I'm not stupid enough to look a gift horse in the mouth like that."

 _So the council sent him,_ Jimmy mused, bitterly. _Perfect... Just what I need right now. God damn Hajime. Afraid to fight me himself._

Another coin shot past his head and exploded behind his back, forcing Jimmy forwards, into the minefield of currency. Behind his back, his dislocated left arm flailed uselessly.

Grimacing in pain, Jimmy swung his right fist down and slammed it into the ground. A crater of destruction extended out from his fist, blowing away the coins seconds before they exploded.

The sphere of blasts around him, however, all emitted shockwaves which simultaneously slammed into him, bruising his body all over.

 _Damn it, this is getting nowhere fast._ Grinding his teeth together, Jimmy glared over at Patrick. _I wanted to save this for Hajime, but I guess I've not no other choice. It's three months until the tournament and I can't afford to break any bones; there's no way of knowing how long it would take me to heal._

Narrowing his eyes, he watched as the Irish boy prepared to fling another dime at him.

 _Sorry if this fucks you up too much... I still can't control it very well._


	3. Chapter 3

Ami Matsuda arrived at the battleground, just as the boxer decided to make his final stand.

The air was thick and charged with Ki, from the Irishman's repeated use of his Red Feather abilities. The scent of iron swam through the atmosphere; a mixture of blood and metal fragments scattered about the area.

Stood in the middle of the carnage, Ami saw Jimmy Owens readjust his stance.

He held himself in a strange manner. It was nothing like she had ever seen before; at least not when it came to traditional boxing. He looked as if he was taking on the movements of some form of Chinese Martial Art. Every move that he was making seemed curiously and uncharacteristically circular.

"What are you doing...?" she muttered; her voice barely more than a whisper.

* * *

Loosening his entire body, Jimmy bent his knees and anchored his feet into the ground. Held in front of him, his right fist twisted in a single fluid motion and pulled backwards.

Fifteen feet ahead of him, Patrick Donahue prepared to throw another coin at him, when he stopped short. He lifted one eyebrow in a perplexed expression as he watched Jimmy change his stance.

 _What's he doing?_ he thought. _Trying to throw a punch from there? No, that's impossible. He must be trying to repel the coins back at me again. Too bad that's not going to work..._

Pointing his elbow straight out at his opponent, Patrick bent his forearm back towards his face.

 _I'll bounce the next one up from the ground. Come in underneath his guard._

Clenching tightly on the bright coin, his green eyes took on a pointed hardness to them. Whipping past him, the wind caught his open white shirt, causing his black t-shirt that he wore underneath to flicker in and out of view. Matching the glimmer of the coin, his copper hair caught the light of the sun.

Before he could launch his attack, however, Patrick flinched back as Jimmy emitted a harsh shout.

"Forged Needle!"

Thrusting his right arm forwards with extreme force, Jimmy threw a punch, seemingly at nothing. As he did so, a dense veil of Ki roared around his body, with the churning sound of a cyclone. Almost as if mirroring the swiping forward motion of his right fist, his left foot rotated backwards.

Stood at the sidelines, watching the display, Ami gasped under her breath.

She could finally see what he was attempting to do.

 _It's... Uraate..._ she thought. _Reverse Striking... He's using the air as a medium._

A massive shockwave of air erupted from Jimmy's fist and barrelled into Patrick's front, with the sound of a thunderclap. His sternum crushed by the force, the auburn-haired boy choked on blood as he was taken clean off of his feet.

 _Reverse Striking is a fulcrum-based skill,_ Ami's brain continued, as she watched the boy trace an arc through the air. _You shift the point of impact by striking the dead centre of your target, and use your Ki to alter where the damage is distributed. Jimmy's always done that. He was probably even thinking of teaching it to the new kid. But this is different... How the hell did he do that?_

Patrick landed on the ground, several dozen feet away, with a dull thump. Blood flowed out of his mouth and nose, and his shirt was torn away from his chest. His eyes had rolled back in his head, from where he had lost consciousness.

Breathing heavily, Jimmy lowered his fist and finally clasped at his injured left shoulder.

Now that the fight was over, Ami ran towards him, to check his injuries.

"No, no!" he shouted at her. "Go to him!"

Stopped by the force of his words, the young woman turned her attention towards the unconscious boy, laying off to her left. After pausing for a second, she moved to his side and knelt down, to check his pulse.

Appearing over the horizon, nearing the end of his latest lap around the school, Nick Slater broke into a surprised expression. Eyes moving over the destruction and eventually settling on the wounded form of Jimmy, he picked up his laboured pace.

"Whoa! What the hell happened here?"

Grimacing as he tightened his grip on the burnt flesh of his arm, Jimmy opened one eye and looked over at his approaching friend. "Executive Council sent a hit man after me. Don't worry, though, I beat him."

"Could'a fooled me," Nick replied. "You look like shit."

"Just shut up for a second, alright?"

Retching in pain, Jimmy popped his dislocated shoulder back into place and started to breathe heavily. Bending his fingers several times to test his mobility, after several seconds he was finally satisfied that he hadn't suffered serious and lasting damage.

"Damn that hurt..."

Glancing over his shoulder at Jimmy'sunconscious opponent, Nick lifted an eyebrow. "Who was he?"

"Red Feather kid..." the boxer replied. "His Ki has some kind of explosive property to it." He briefly glanced around the area. "Evidently."

"Yeah, he really did a number on you."

"I've had worse..." Jimmy muttered. "Freshmanyear, in the tournament, when the Kyûdô Club sat on the roof and started firing at us."

Nick chuckled under his breath. "Oh yeah. I remember that. You still got the scars?"

"A few."

Directing his attention towards the bloody boy, being treated by Ami, Nick nodded his head. "Looks like you've given him some of his own."

Jimmy started to walk over to the crouched form of Ami, all the while clutching his burned arm. "He'll heal... Eventually. He's lucky I didn't kill him."

"Speaking of..." Nick fell into pace beside him. "What the hell did you do to him? I mean I know you're damn strong, but no way you knocked him that far."

"He had a bit of distance on me, so I got him with a mid-range attack."

"Yeah, very funny," the blonde boy halflaughed. "Which of the various ranged boxing moves did you use on him? A jab? Or was it a hook?"

"Shut up," Jimmy shot back, bluntly. "You ever learn to keep your mouth shut and I might let you see me use it."

"Oh, so it's a 'secret technique'?" Nick asked, mockingly.

Ignoring his friend, Jimmy crouched down beside Ami and glanced over Patrick's body. "How's he doing?"

"Better now that I've given him the once over," she replied, moving her hands slightly over the boy's pulverised chest. "I've synchronised my Ki with his, to regulate his pulse. So he's not having a heart attack— which is something. He still needs to go to the hospital, though. I'm surprised he's even got a ribcage left, after what you did to him."

"I can't really control it yet," Jimmy admitted.

"Obviously," Ami scoffed. "I'll ask you about exactly what you did later."

"Thanks for that."

A low groan suddenly rumbled out of Patrick's lips, as he regained consciousness. His eyelids flickered, flashing colour from his mossy eyes.

"Wh-...at... happened?" he choked out, flinching from pain as his ruined sternum dug into his diaphragm.

"You got **_fucked up_** , son!" Nick shouted down at him, laughing as he spoke.

Patrick blinked twice. In spite of the crippling agony that he was experiencing, he still managed to bear an utterly dumbfounded expression.

"Ignore him," Ami said. "Just take it easy. I've called 911, so an ambulance is on the way. Until they get here, you need to keep still. Shallow breaths."

 _So his broken ribs don't puncture his lungs..._ Jimmy thought. _At least now I know that it'll deal with Hajime. If I can hit him with it, that is._

"Sorry about that," he said, addressing the Irishman.

"S'okay..." Patrick retched, with a smirk. "Tried t' do the same t' you..."

"No hard feelings then?"

Bloody lips curling slightly, Patrick laughed softly under his breath. "Nah... Only if... If you get me a smoke..." Flicking his eyes down, he indicated his jacket pocket. "Pack 'n lighter in there."

Pulling out the box, Jimmy drew a cigarette and placed it between the boy's pursed lips.

"Cheers f' that..." he said, speaking around the filter. Looking up at the older boy, he winked.

The sound of sirens gradually began to grow louder as, in the distance, an ambulance van charged down the main road.

* * *

Aat Aromdee rose on unsteady legs and leaned against the window, just in time to see the ambulance pull up. Balling his fist against the glass, he swore under his breath.

"Looks like Hajime's plan didn't work out too well," arose a voice from behind him. "If he wanted Jimmy taken out, he should have hired professionals. Instead of pulling in some run of the mill freak."

Stood, grouped together, were six individuals. They all wore the academy's signature uniform and, either clasped in their hands or slung over their shoulders, they held some form of weapon.

Aat, still unsteady on his legs from Ami's Naiko, let his back fall against the window. "What, so you want to fight him now? This isn't any of your business."

The foremost member of the group stepped forwards and brushed his long hair out of his face. His lips parted in a disarming grin. "Oh, but it is. That fight down there," he pointed over Aat's shoulder and out of the window, "is like the starting gong. This just became everyone's business. You see power like that thrown around, you're going to want to do one of two things: Fight it yourself, to test your skills, or eliminate it, so you don't have to fight against it in the Election Tournament."

"Plus, who knows," a second member of the group said. His hair was dyed bright red and pulled behind his head in a neat ponytail. "We do well and beat him fast, and Mr Number One might just let us join the executive council."

So ridiculous did he find the statement, Aat actually laughed. "You really have no idea how Hajime thinks, do you?"

A girl near the back of the group spoke up. She was short, with neatly styled, long blonde hair. "I think we have a pretty good idea. And, well, one spot on the council has just opened up."

* * *

"Nurse, why is the patient smoking?"

"He claims it's a sedative, sir. I tried to get him to stop, but-"

The doctor snatched the cigarette out of Patrick's mouth, only to have it spontaneously explode in his hand.

Suddenly breaking into a nervous sweat, the doctor recognised the patch on the boy's school jacket and began to profusely apologise.

Tuning out the man's babbling, he accepted a replacement cigarette and stared up at the ceiling,his eyes distant yet focussed. He thought back to Jimmy; to the hard determination on his face as he struck him.

 _Never seen a face like that... Not on anybody else at least. Think I might have seen something like it in a mirror before..._

He flinched as the doctor began to probe his ruined ribcage.

 _Kinda sad I tried to hurt him,_ he thought. _Oh well. He'll live. Actually in better condition than me... Who'da thunk that? The kid everyone's scared , used to be. Can't say this has done a lot for my rep..._

Taking a deep drag on the cigarette, he watched the tip blaze downwards, leaving behind a high column of white and grey ash.

 _I wonder what's gonna happen now that everyone's seen you can beat a Red Feather?_

Spitting out the finished filter, Patrick ground his molars together as his mind rolled through the many possibilities.

 _This whole thing isn't gonna end well._

* * *

The blonde girl looked down and grinned at Aat's unconscious form collapse into a pool of blood. Around her, her comrades turned away and lowered their weapons.

"Don't worry... We'll come and visit you in the hospital." Her smile widened, as the Thai boy's unconscious form reflected in her pupil. "And don't worry about the Council, or Jimmy. The Sechsklingen will deal with everything."


	4. Chapter 4

"Okay, you're watching my lips, right? You can tell what I'm saying?"

Jeremy pulled an exasperated expression and nodded. Folding his leen, yet muscular, arms over the front of his tank-top, he watched as Jimmy raised his fists.

"Right, now watch my fists," Jimmy said, narrowing his brows as he stared at Jeremy. "I rotate them counter-clockwise, so the backs of my hands face forwards."

Mirroring his senior's movements, Jeremy lifted his own arms.

"The basic principle is that of a circle," Jimmy continued. "If you can help it, everything moves in a circular motion. Your fist comes forwards, it's always a hook, and your opposite leg has to rotate back."

Testing the movement, Jeremy swung his right arm out, simultaneously moving his left leg backwards. Unpracticed in the synchronised movements, they were out of time by a half second.

"You're not used to it at the moment, but give it time. You'll get it eventually."

Straightening up, Jeremy signed something at him. Jimmy only pulled a confused and annoyed expression. Dropping his fists, he scratched at the side of his head and sighed.

"We really need to invest in a translator..."

"Or you could just learn to sign," Ami said, calling across the gym at him. Striding past the numerous machines and hanging sandbags, the fluorescent light from the ceiling panels shimmered off of her glossy black hair. "You know, like I offered to teach you."

Seeing the beautiful girl enter the space, Jeremy broke into a wide smile and strode towards her.

"Don't!" Ami said, sharply, raising one finger. "You dare!"

Blushing, the deaf boy scratched the side of his head and bashfully broke into a grin.

Recalling the events from the day before, Jimmy chuckled slightly under his breath. "You sure it's wise for you to be so close to him, Ami?" he asked, a teasing tone to his voice.

"He stays at arm's length," she reaffirmed, before signing at Jeremy. **-Understand?-**

Nodding, Jeremy held his hands up and smiled innocently.

"So what are you doing here?" Jimmy asked, folding his arms and leaning back against the wall behind him. Narrowing his eyes, he peered over the still-prominent burn etched onto his left cheek. "Spying on me for the council?"

"You and I both know that they'd never ask me to do that," Ami replied. "I'm actually here to figure out what that technique was, that you used on the Red Feather boy, yesterday."

Reading her lips, Jeremy pulled a confused expression at her use of the phrase "Red Feather". He didn't attempt to sign out a question, however, too preoccupied with studying Jimmy's face as the older boy worked out a response.

"It's just reverse striking," he replied, bluntly. "Exactly what I'm teaching the kid, right now. There's nothing special to it."

"Yeah, and I'm the Queen of England," Ami huffed. "You landed a hit on him from more than ten feet away. Almost killed him too. If I didn't know any better, I would have said it was some kind of Red Feather power." Her gaze hardened. "If I didn't know any better," she repeated.

Jimmy averted his eyes, nervously. "If I tell you, you have to promise not to let it slip to anyone." Replacing his vision, he jabbed one finger towards Jeremy. "That goes for you too."

Jeremy grinned, and signed at Ami. **-My lips are sealed.-**

The statement was enough to make the girl break from her serious persona, and let out a laugh. Jimmy didn't bother to question what he had said.

Instead, he stood up straight and began to walk across the mostly empty gym. Hung two thirds into the space was a heavy bag, used for punching practice. Jimmy stopped fifteen feet back from the punching bag and curled his body into a stance, almost identical to the one he had donned in the fight with Patrick; only this time with the addition of a functioning left arm.

"Like I said, it's just reverse striking." As he explained, over his shoulder Ami began signing to translate what he was saying to Jeremy, now that his back was to them and the boy couldn't read his lips. "You use circular motions to coil your Ki around your body. If you do it right, you can channel that Ki into any object — or person — you strike, and distribute the damage anywhere you like. What I did was use that basic idea, but take it to the extreme. More rotations, denser Ki... I knead it inside my body and pull it into my stomach, hardening the Ki pressure until it's almost solid. Then it's just a case of releasing it through my fist." He began to accumulate Ki, tensing his muscles and beginning to move with small, circular motions. "In the end, it's so dense and thin that it's forged and tempered into something akin to a needle. It's able to pass through the air, using it as a medium. From then on its the same as regular reverse striking: You pick and choose where you distribute the damage, only now you're sending the air pressure barrelling into your target."

As he punched, an enormous shock wave of air blasted from the front of Jimmy's fist and slammed into the heavy bag. The sound of a thunderclap shook the gym, and the bag exploded, raining sand down onto the floor.

Jeremy opened his eyes wide, his mouth dropping low and dangling from his jaw.

Ami narrowed her eyes sharply. "How the hell did you learn this? No way you figured that out on your own."

"I stole it," Jimmy replied, turning back towards the girl and briefly flashing a grin.

"What do you mean you stole it?" Ami asked, donning a confused expression and raising one eyebrow.

"I might tell you how one day," the boxer replied, coyly. "For now though, you at least know how it works... Even if I did scrimp a bit on the specifics."

"So am I right in thinking this is your trump card for Hajime?"

"It's supposed to be," Jimmy explained. "In a perfect world, I'd have pulled it out as a surprise for him in the tournament. The best I can hope for now is that not many people saw it yesterday. And those who did have no idea what the hell happened."

"What are the chances of that?"

"I'd say somewhere between not good and fucking terrible." Jimmy flicked his eyes to the side and scoffed. "If not, I'm the luckiest son of a bitch in the world. The school's filled with nothing but martial artists. Doesn't matter if someone only caught a glimpse, it's enough for them to try and analyse it. I'm just hoping word doesn't make it back to Hajime. People are selfish; they want to look out for themselves, so hopefully they won't talk much about it. That's pretty much what I'm betting on."

Jeremy grinned and signed to Ami. **-He's going to need a better plan than that.-**

The beautiful girl took a second to think before replying. **-I agree.-**

"What's he saying?" Jimmy nodded his head towards the younger boy.

"He's saying that your plan is stupid," Ami replied. "Something I agree with. If your whole strategy against the council hinges on one punch, I don't like the look of your chances."

"You think that's all there is to it?"

"Plans aren't exactly your forté."

"Why do you think I recruited the kid?"

Ami merely shrugged, apathetically. "Because he's new. Everyone else in the school wouldn't dare join the boxing club. Not after what happened last year."

"So it was a convenient opportunity? Is that what you think this is?"

"Are you telling me it's not?"

Again, Jimmy broke into a grin. "Well... I'd be lying if I said that wasn't my original intention. But even I have to admit... The kid's a good fighter. And fast? Don't get me started."

Jeremy blushed and bashfully scratched the back of his head. Breaking into a wide smile, he winked at Ami.

Recoiling slightly from the boy, nervous of another attempt at groping her, Ami shook her head in mild disbelief. "I'll believe that when I see it."

The was a flash of movement in her peripheral. A blur of blonde hair moved past her and before she had time to react, her shirt exploded, revealing her bra. Screaming in surprise, Ami's hands shot up and covered her modesty.

Now on the other side of her, Jeremy broke into a grin and dropped the buttons he had snatched off of her top.

"What the hell?!" Ami cried, flushing red in horrific embarrassment.

"I told you he was fast," Jimmy shrugged.

Still grinning, Jeremy signed over to Ami. **-Nice pair.-**

No sooner had he finished his hand movements, her fist appeared in his face. Despite his almost superhuman speed, she still managed to surprise him. A second later, he was across the room.

Seeing the boy launched by her for the second time in all of two days, Jimmy allowed himself a slight chuckle.

"Next time," Ami said, staring pointedly at the boxer, "I'm wearing a jacket. And he stands behind you. At all times."

"That's definitely an idea," he said, glancing over at Jeremy. The younger boy was in the process of rising, dazed to his feet. "I'll warn you, though, he's persistent. I saw him yesterday stood under the stairs so he could see up girls' skirts."

"Fantastic."

Shaking his head as he pulled himself up, Jeremy swung his gaze around the entrance to the gym. At first he thought he was seeing things. Vision blurred as it was from the slug to his face, he figured that what he was seeing was just too ridiculous to be believed.

Stood in the doorway, was a girl holding a spear.


End file.
